Bland
by Chimerical Knave
Summary: I stepped into a white room . . .
1. Reminiscent

_Chimerical_Knave_

**Reminiscent

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**

Cornell's palace sure was mighty comfy. Halle-fucking-lujah! I felt like a fucking king here. People always cautious around me, like I was from some royalty or something. Wherever I went a nice pair of bodyguards escorted me. And to top it all off, I got my own set of personalized, fitted jewelry. Too bad I didn't get a cape. They could've provided me with a jester. Sick from boredom, anyone?

_Bzzzzt!_

The metal gate popped open and I was escorted through by two guards. The heavy chain and shackles wore out my muscles—it wasn't easy lugging this from one end of the palace to the next, if only I had a palanquin. Had this been twenty years before I wouldn't be bitching about it.

The three of us soon came across another gate—all gray and rusted, looking like shit; beyond that gate were the glass cubicles—the zoo, as the locals called it. I stood there for a minute as the guards searched me for the third time.

A buzz and a second later I was walking in the zoo. The glass rooms were unbreakable and yet they seemed so weak and unstable; it was still new to me knowing that something so clear and simple could box in something so vile and malicious—but hey, take a good look at me.

We took a right and found ourselves in a different interior: a white corridor. I began to relax slightly, my fists unclenched. If it weren't for those white walls, I might have actually felt despondent. We stopped at the last door and I waited for them to unlock the chains. My legs were free but my hands were still restrained . . . fucking typical of them. It's not as if I could still choke anyone with the remaining chains or knock them out cold with a well placed kick.

I stepped into a white room; just as plain as anything else I've seen so far. Sitting across the table was the one woman I had talked to since my coming here. Even though I was convinced that this was all just an act, I still played along with it because there was nothing better to do—spending all my time in that hell-hole wasn't fun at all.

I pulled out the metal chair and leaned forward with my elbows on the table.

"Alright you persistent little bitch how far are we? Wait . . . don't answer. I just want to get through the part leading up to my incident. You good?"

I paused to see what she would say. The vixen silently nodded and smiled, beckoning me to continue.

I rolled my eyes. "Sheesh alrighty, here are some fun facts about me, if you're into that kind of stuff."

"As a young boy I followed all of the Ten Commandments without even knowing . . . well nearly all. I never disobeyed my mother or father; I didn't want useless things that my neighbors had; I didn't worship anything or create some stupid idol; I never did lie behind people's backs, I spoke with my fists; I never misused the name of the lord because I didn't; I don't recall a day in my life where I spent a Sunday doing work of any sort; I never was able to cheat on nobody cause long term relationships hates me; I was happy with what I had so stealing was out; I never was one for lying either—what was the use? You'd eventually get caught five minutes from now or five years."

I paused for a minute.

"You see, I followed all of the commandments . . . except for one."

I took my elbows off of the table and leaned back in my chair slightly.

"It started back when . . . "

_Tick. Tock. Ding! Ding! Ding!_

The vintage grandfather clock resonated with low, baritone vibrations—even at its old age, it managed to signal the correct time.

The barely standing grandfather clock wasn't the only object that openly graced the space with its age. The walls and floorboards equally, and proudly, coughed to signify their existence—creaking and groaning in pain or delight, one could not tell. If you looked closely enough, some floorboards would go the extra mile and puff their chest out in pride if you walked over them.

However, one look at its faded paint and scratched glass would make any professional interior designer, or home realtor, want a remodel instantly. Everything inside the deteriorating home was old and battered . . . everything including its rightful owner.

Even though everything inside the house was old, nothing was out of place. Every cup, every picture, every kitchen utensil and decoration, everything hanging off of my walls from my high school certificate of graduation to my dad's faded war medals . . . everything was right where they needed to be—even me.

I sat, as a lonesome wolf, on a wooden stool which was pulled up to the rim of my table. On the table there was a bottle of whiskey and a loaf of bread.

I gingerly grasped the handle of my bottle and poured a shot before biting into my dinner. My canines shattered the bread's crust, gnawing until it was soft enough to swallow. Heh, I was snacking on stale bread.

"Tastes like shit!" I let my head droop and hang.

You see, I had tried dipping it in milk, spreading butter, and spreading jelly but nothing appeased my sensitive palate. I could only enjoy eating when I was half-conscious under the effects of alcohol.

Anyone who knew of my simple, routine diet could only wonder why I didn't buy better food. Well, for one, I was stingy. No need for complications of worrying about this and that, owing this to him and her, and moving here to there. I liked to keep things as simple as possible—which was probably the reason why my shirt still had a stain from last week and why my fur was ruffled, stood up on random spots of my body.

I tried to stand up, found that I couldn't, and ended up toppling backwards still in my chair. Luckily, my back was sturdier than it seemed and survived the fall—though I was out cold for the night. The chair, on the other hand, wasn't so lucky, which I would figure out in the morning when I tried to prop it back up.

I lived a very boring life; it couldn't possibly get any more boring than this shit. I couldn't say that I was content with my current life—barely moving along at a snail's pace with my severance pay—but it was better than smoking my life out or some other shit like that. I did get offered a position one time before as a dealer in the big city. What do they take me for? Just because I'm old and look poor, it means that I'm desperate and down-right stupid? Fucking retards living in my world nowadays; fucking retards.

I didn't think my life would change at all but I suppose that promiscuous bitch named Fate has a way of repaying you for keeping the peace. Who would've seen her coming the next day? Sure as hell not me.

I have only Fate to thank for that crucial moment in my life . . . or maybe it's god? I'm not sure which one to thank or hate, though, hypothetically speaking here, I fucking hated both of them.

Throwing that chair out was a mistake. It's something like throwing your hand out before you receive the flop . . . you regret everything immediately.


	2. Savior

_Chimerical_Knave_

**Savior**

**

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**

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I woke with a groggy start, my head spinning; or maybe that was just me? I tried to focus on my surroundings but the whole room seemed to be a blurry mesh of brown, white, and everything in between. I stood up and slipped.

When I was finally able to open my eyes again, they were struck by the furious rays of the sun. Apparently I had forgotten to close the blinds last night. Which only signified that my memory was settling into my body . . . finally.

I slowly stood up and steadied myself against my table. Five snaps vibrated throughout my frame (did I step on something?) and suddenly the blinds didn't seem so important anymore. Boy, did I regret sleeping on the cold, tiled kitchen floor.

I stumbled towards the rays of light shining in my face, wildly grabbing for the string. My movements felt too quick and the trip took too long. I finally closed the blinds. Wasn't squinting anymore.

I tried to sit back in my chair but my back met air as I fell toward the earth once more. I cussed out loud and scrambled around the wooden chips and pieces of my chair. I shook my head and my vision cleared long enough for me to sum up the damage report.

"Fuckin shit." My paw came up and began rubbing my temple.

One of its legs had snapped in half. First thought was to patch that shit up with some scotch tape or something. I stood there and traded stares between the snapped wooden leg and the awry chair. I frowned.

A minute later I started grabbing the pieces of the chair, grunting all the while, and chucking them out the kitchen. "Gonna fucking break? Piece of shit."

At my door, I began snapping the chair in two. One man's trash is another man's treasure, those fucking philosophers say.

I dragged the chair and my body outside for the first time in weeks—it was starting to get warmer. What month was it again?

Once outside, I noticed that graffiti had been drawn all over my fucking door. Shit and gang symbols put in one.

I snorted and muttered, "Well, fuck that."

I threw the remaining pieces of my chair next to my mail box and then took out last month's mail, including this week's. Threw those in the trash. As I turned to walk away something caught my attention from the corner of my eye. Was it . . . blue?

"Blue fur?" I stopped myself and blinked.

A young vixen, probably no more than eighteen or nineteen, walked along the sidewalk. Her well-kept tail bobbed behind her, behind that there was a Lincoln stalking her down the street. I could vaguely pick out shouts and yells but nothing was coherent. Whatever it was, friendly sure as hell didn't describe it.

I decided to stay and watch, hoping that the car would just speed away. As the car and the girl got near, I could pick out what they were saying.

"Look at this freakshow!"

I could see an orange paw giving her the birdie. "The fuck you supposed to be!"

The frown upon my face slowly morphed into a sneer and a growl escaped my muzzle.

The girl was giving them the silent treatment, never responding or even giving them a second glance. Shit, if that had been me I would've busted some faces by now, probably smash the windows in too just for good measure.

I was about to turn around and head back into my house when the people in the car crossed my invisible line: one of them threw an empty beer bottle at her. It hit her squarely in the face and she fell to the ground stunned, books strewn at her feet.

I ground my canines and spun around again, bolting across the street to where they were. What was I thinking?

"Hey! Leave her the fuck alone!" I bared my fangs, slamming my paws on the hood of the car.

The driver exclaimed, "Hey watch it! This is a new car!"

The passenger just smirked. "Old man, you just go back to your house and leave us alone. This ain't your business. Capisci?"

"You gonna do something bout me in your business? Step outta that ugly tub. Show me the fucking door or get outa my fucking face. Capisci?"

The four in the car silently looked to each other, confused. One made a choice.

"This guy's crazy man. Let's get outta here."

The car screeched and took off. The screech didn't cover up the unmistakable voice that rang after it, though. "Yer lucky girl! We'll see you again tomorrow!"

I had gotten a good luck at the forms sitting in the car. The two in the back seat were both male wolves. The one on the right had worn a red shirt that was three sizes too big for him and the one on the right wore a wife-beater just as big. The passenger seat had seated an auburn vixen—and while her fur was normal a nasty scar streaked across her left eye to her muzzle. The driver was a black wolf, sporting a white silk jacket and hair as wavy as a model's. Black aviators had obscured his face.

I spat on the ground. "Pussies."

The blue fox slowly tried to stand and I hesitated before offering her my paw. She gingerly grasped it and I tugged her up like a doll.

I shook my head and sneered, "Blue fur, eh? What's that? Some stupid rock trend you teens do?"

She faced away from me and silently shook her head.

I let my sneer wear off and slowly nodded my head. "Ah . . . it's some fur disorder thing, ain't it?"

She nodded her head.

I picked up her bag, avoiding her gaze. "Well . . . here's your book bag." As she reached for it I said, "Aren't you gonna say thanks or nothing?"

She froze and hesitated. Suddenly, she grabbed her bag out of my outstretched paw and zipped past me.

I watched her run off and shouted, "Shit, I'm sorry! Was it cuz of what I said?"

I shook my head and headed back to my front porch where my door was still wide open. "The matter with kids these days? Can't say a fuckin proper thank you?"

I shut the door behind me. _"I better not have gotten robbed. Fucking retards making me forget about my fucking front door being fucking open."_

I ran my paw through my hair and stared at the strewn pieces of wood chips on the floor.

"God dammit!"


	3. Stubborn

_Chimerical_Knave_

**Stubborn

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**

Last night, I had slept comfortably on my king-sized bed. No pangs greeted me from behind, no ringing noises either . . . but there was a slight scratching sound. What the fuck? I held my breath and sat still; my ears could faintly pick out a soft scratching noise from my front door.

I stumbled out of my bed, ripped my closet door open, and tossed everything out of the way. Seated in an open shoebox at the very back was my prized possession: a Fang Magnum.

The Fang Magnum was a prize that my father had bought off at an auction for a little over a thousand credits. And why not, with a custom blue finish and an eight-inch barrel? It wasn't as fast as an energy rifle but it was a lot more powerful in terms of energy output per shot.

I checked to make sure that it was loaded and took off down the stairs. The celluloid grip of my revolver felt snug in the palm of my right paw.

I unlocked my door and yanked it open, greeting the thief with my Fang.

I was genuinely surprised to say the least. Standing in front of me was not some hoodlum, not those retards from yesterday, or even some masked marauder; standing in front of me was the blue furred fox from yesterday.

I was at a loss for words and apparently she was too.

She was gone in a flash as my ears picked up a clattering noise. I lowered my gun and picked it up. A paintbrush?

There was an open can of white paint next to my bench and half of my entire porch radiated pureness and shit. Shit, even the graffiti from yesterday was covered up.

Now, I had to admit that it gave my house a cleaner and much better look but I didn't want anybody painting my porch without my permission, good intensions or not.

I clamped the lid back on the paint can and then threw it away along with the brush and hoped that she wouldn't show up again.

It turned out that Fate loved to fuck with people. I almost forgot that she sent me a fucking fox. A fucking fox!

Why do foxes have to be stubborn? I thought they were supposed to be a bunch of pussies that didn't want any trouble, turning tail at the very first sign of danger. Why the fuck did God make her different? Why?

The next day I woke up slightly later than usual, luckily silence permeated the house. I smirked to myself and sauntered down the stairs. I began brewing myself some coffee and proceeded to take a shower when I noticed something outside my window at the front. White?

I rushed to the front door and almost dropped my mug of coffee.

The entire porch was covered in white—even my fucking bench was white. There was an empty can of what used to be white paint next to the bench.

I finally took a sip from my mug and shook my head. "Damn her."

I then slammed the door shut.

This went on for about a week, the painting of my house white. Hell, she even tried to replace the rotten wood in some areas—she failed at that task. My windows would be spotless as I stared through them in the morning, my driveway would be free of any leaves and debris, and my mail—as well as my Sunday newspaper—would be neatly stacked at my front door.

I never asked for this, not that I detested it at all, but it was a nuisance because I knew I was more than capable of doing all of those tasks; I just never cared about doing them.

Once or twice I managed to catch a glimpse of her as I hurried outside the house, out of breath, calling out to her. She would turn briefly to stare at me—felt like a foxy taunt of some sort— before scurrying off.

One day, I decided to set my clock a couple hours early. I woke up at 4:30 in the morning and snuck into my garage. About a half-hour later the blue menace appeared to continue her arduous work.

She set about her task very meticulously, careful not to cause any disruptions. Behind her a young boy pushed a reel lawn mower.

I smirked to myself. "She's using that busted up shit? Damn, foxes are smart."

Oh well, time to end this shit. I tugged the garage door open and stepped out to meet them.

She was just starting to push the lawn mower when the boy noticed me. I coughed audibly and she froze up. As she made a move to run I commanded her to stop.

And she didn't run, but instead faced me for the first time in weeks.

"Don't you owe me an apology?" My arms crossed each other over my chest.

She cocked her head slightly to the side and gave me the confused look.

"You made me go through a lot of trouble just to catch you. Listen here, and I mean listen carefully, I don't want you fixing up my house or my lawn. Just leave me alone, will ya? I can take care of myself just fuckin fine. I'm just so happy that you feel the need to help me out but go help someone else out. You're not helping me out at all. Matter of fact, you're bothering the shit outa me."

As my voice rose louder and louder, I could see her neck craning further and further back. She never took a step back though. Even though I could see the fear in her eyes, she held her ground. Apparently this fox wasn't smart enough to know when to run.

"Now go. Git outa here and don't ever come back!"

When I was done with my little rant she refused to move. I finally shooed both of them away and shuffled back inside, hoping never to see them again, especially the girl.

I shook my head and ran my paw through it. I couldn't face her but somehow the words came out.

"Well, what would you say if the girl came back again but this time she brought a thank you card?"

Without letting her answer I quickly fired, "Before you answer though, let me ask you this: what would you say if I took that card and destroyed it?"

She was as silent as ever but when I looked up from the table her eyes sparkled with curiosity.

The annoying ringing of my door bell woke up the entire house. I wasn't particularly happy to be disturbed from my Sunday sleep so it took me a while to stir. The ringing persisted and I finally dropped off the edge of my bed. I slowly crept down my stairs, taking my sweet Sunday time.

I finally opened my door and almost yelled, "What da fuck you want!"

It was Her.

I felt my grip tighten on the door and felt my lower lip curl. "Get off my porch."

She stood her ground, yet again, and pulled out an envelope from her back pocket.

I forced a smile, which actually felt like a sneer. "What's this, eh? Some thank you note?"

She silently nodded her head. A gal of few words as usual.

I took the note from her and unfolded it. _Thank you for saving me the other day-_

I stopped reading after that, scoffed, and glared at her. "You think I saved you? Maybe I did, but I didn't do it out of kindness, you hear? I felt sorry for you. I pitied your ass. This note? It means nothing to me."

To emphasis my point I took the flimsy, decorated card in my two paws and ripped it in two.

Her expression had always been passive and unresponsive before but after that incident it was as if her composure had received the same fate as her thank you letter.

Seeing that shocked look upon her face hit me harder than kidney stones. I didn't have the resolve to continue this hardball act nor did I have the thought to apologize; it was too late for that . . . I had already wounded her. I might as well finish the job and get this over with.

"Now get the fuck off my porch and don't ever bring me worthless pieces of shit again!"

I slammed the door in her face and stomped off to my kitchen where I could find some peace and sanction in my whiskey.

I poured myself a shot after thirty minutes of staring at my bottle.

I began rationalizing with myself. "She brought this upon herself. If she had only listened to me none of this would've happened. Fucking deaf."

But the more I thought about it, the more I was convinced that I was in the wrong at a hundred and fifty percent. I had no right to yell at her or rip up her lovely card.

I had to do something or I would be stuck in this fucked up state. I threw my shot glass at the wall and then downed the rest of my whiskey.

That night I dreamt about something dragging me away into a dark well, just dragging me down and down. It was like getting swept away in a theoretical black hole: with no sense of time or direction, spiraling.

I woke with a start, sweat forming on my brow and dripping off. I shook it off of me and collapsed back onto my pillow.

"Just fucking great."

I had no fucking idea how much this incident was going to flip my world upside down and on top of my head. It's so funny how the smallest decisions can make the biggest impacts.


	4. Reasons

**Reasons  


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I was about to make my daily morning coffee when a high-pitched whine grasped my full attention. I set my mug of coffee to the side.

"What is it this time?"

Ignoring the groans of protest from my body, I pushed the door open and searched my lawn expectantly. There was nobody on my porch or lawn. The sound came from across the street, where another neighbor was mowing his lawn.

I let my paw slump to my side and slowly shut the door. "The fuck is the matter with me?"

The next day I had a strange urge to check my mail box...five in the morning. The sun was still rising, the grass was glistening, and the air was chilly as fuck. I slowly trudged across my lawn, taking my time and staring down both ends of the street before staring down the empty cylinder of my mailbox. Of course, the mailman had not come this early. Nothing to be found except for disappointment.

I waited two more days before deciding that it was time to finally replace those areas with rotten wood. I've always had an abundant supply of pine in my garage all stacked up. I carried them all out and set them next to my porch. I stood and waited a moment, scanning the street and then the side. I was prepared to begin when I realized that I didn't have any of the tools required to cut the pine and sand it. I cussed to myself for my stupidity as I dragged the wood back into my garage.

It was finally Saturday. Time had inched by a snail's pace this week and I was depressed for some reason or another. I woke up and poured myself the usual morning, black coffee when I noticed that my stock of canned food had gotten smaller. I opened my refrigerator and surveyed the inside: A carton of milk half full, a couple vitamin shakes, some apples and bananas, and a twelve pack of White Moon beer. My concern over my supply of food was nothing serious but I made a mental note to visit the supermarket soon.

I was eating out of my heated can of sausages when a couple knocks resounded from the hallway. I put my fork down and frowned. I decided at first to go against answering the door. But the knocking persisted and with each knock I grew more and more hopeful. No one could be this stubborn.

I wiped my muzzle clean with a towel before I opened the door.

It was a male sheep outfitted in a blue suit. Next to him, there was a lion who was also wearing a similar blue suit but he was carrying a black suitcase.

"What do you people want?" I grumbled, completely disappointed.

The sheep spoke up first. "Greetings. We are from the Works of God church and we have come to bring you the good news of our lord."

The lion pulled out a folder from his suitcase and continued after the sheep finished speaking in his monotonous volume. "In this pamphlet you will learn about our wonderful God who gave us life and how to please him in order to reach salvation."

I leaned against my door and allowed myself a cheery smile. "Why thank you. I think I'll get straight to reading this and learning all about this God that I've never heard about before."

The lion frowned at me and shut his suitcase. "We hope so too. If you don't work for the lord then you will never reach salvation."

The sheep bid me a good day and then they both left.

I crumpled the pamphlet in my paw and watched them walk away before I shut my door.

"Damn idiots."

I was about to finish my canned sausages but they had gotten cold in my wake. I didn't feel like heating it up so I threw it away along with the balled up papers.

I thought to myself, "What a waste. That was my last can too...I think."

I rummaged through my pantry but I couldn't find any more canned sausages among my cans of beef and chicken broth.

"Damn. I really liked those sausages."

I looked to my countertop where two ripped halves of a note had been placed.

"I should go to the supermarket today. Why not? I need more milk and sausages anyways. I might find something else too...who knows."

I jumped into my faded white truck and started the ignition. To my surprise, the truck answered on the first try. I wasn't sure if this was a sign or if this was coincidence.

I drove around my neighborhood twice, checking the sidewalks and corners. I'm not sure why though. Maybe I was going through some mid-life crisis and I had to ride it off. After the second run, I decided to head to the market.

I dreaded the supermarket. They had trained employees who absolutely had to ask any old, fragile person if they needed assistance. I may have been old but I sure as hell wasn't fragile.

As soon as I walked in I gave the greeter a glare, even though he knew to avoid me by any means possible. But it wasn't just the greeter who knew me. Around these parts, all the employees knew me. I had made sure of that over the course of the past few years. Everyone knew to avoid me or suffer a wild cussing fury. Shit, if I needed help I would seek it out.

I was going about my business in the canned food section when something caught my eye. When I realized who it was, I felt like smiling.

It wasn't the nameless blue vixen but the next best thing: that little husky boy who had showed up with her that one day.

I strode over to him. He didn't notice me because he was too busy reading the canned labels.

"Hey you. Where's your blue friend?"

He stood up and bolted. I barely had time to drop my basket and take off after him. Christ! He was fast.

Lucky for me I had two advantages: One, I knew the supermarket like my home. Two, I used to be the fastest thing in my class.

I went down aisle 8 and took a sharp right. I immediately spotted him rush across aisle 9 to aisle 10. I skipped both and went straight for aisle 11 when he slipped past me from aisle 10. He had tricked me!

Unbeknownst to him, he had just entered the magazines area...on a Saturday.

I didn't have to know where he was exactly, I just needed to get to the exit before he did. I went outside and stood by the door.

A few seconds later, the husky boy, out of breath, jogged outside...where I pulled him by his collar towards me.

"Let me go! Damn it!"

"Hey, that's no way to speak to an adult."

He sneered at me and tried to bite my hand.

I shook him silly. "Will you cut that shit out?"

He obeyed and I was able to set him down. I didn't let go though.

"All I want to know is who was she?"

"Who was who?"

"Don't play smart with me boy. I want to know about your blue friend."

"She's not my friend! Now let me go!"

"What do you mean by that?" I let go of his collar.

He straightened his shirt out and dusted his sleeves.

"I mean exactly what I mean. She's not my friend. I just know her because I see her walk by my house a lot. She came by my house and asked if she could borrow my dad's mower. I went with her to make sure she wasn't going to steal it."

"So we both know her but she only spoke to you? She didn't even say thank you to me once. I think that saying thank you is much easier than asking for a lawn mower."

"Don't ask me. Go ask her."

"After I ripped her note in two? She definitely won't talk to me."

"You're a stupid, mean guy, you know that?"

I was about to shake him harder this time, but he evaded my hands and sped off.

While he was running, he shouted, "It's not that she doesn't want to talk to you!"

I thought to myself, "The fuck is that supposed to mean?"

I was about to walk inside when I noticed parents and people alike staring at me. It wasn't everyday that you say an old guy chasing after a young boy.

"It's alright people! I'm not a Catholic priest!" I laughed at my own joke but apparently no one else got it.

"The fuck you looking at?" I stormed back in through the exit.

I was stopped by Phil, the weasel manager. You could say that we were pals but I'd prefer not to associate myself with the likes of him.

The weasel smiled, revealing his stained teeth. "Hey buddy! It's been a while hasn't it? What? A year?"

"It's been the same fucking length as any other time. A month."

"Right, right." He nodded his head so vigorously that I wanted to rip it right off.

He put his arm around my shoulder and i could pick up the scent of nachos along with a waft of beans.

The only reason he talked with me was because no one else in the store wanted to talk with him. And I never really did talk with him, unless cussing is considered a conversation. Though today I actually felt like saying a few words. Only a few words.

I stayed silent and hoped that Phil would do the same. He ignored the hint. "So uh...ya. What're doing this week?"

"You forgot my name again? Shit, you're fucking hopeless."

"I remember it! It's Walten."

I shook my head. "Sure. Let's fucking go with that."

Something caught his attention and he left my side for a moment.

Phil the weasel was notorious for giving bad reports on anyone he thought he saw slacking; which was nearly everyone save for himself. If you were taking a break then he would call you lazy. If you spit your gum at the trash and missed he would scold you for littering, regardless of whether you were going to pick it up or not. If you weren't notified of a six o clock meeting or forgot about it he would believe you to be stupid.

And he wondered why no one ever spoke to him.

I hurried back to where I left my basket - I needed to get away from him and I didn't want some employee deciding to put everything back. I arrived just in time too.

A bear was stooping down to pick my basket up when I snatched it from his paw. He was about to say something when he noticed who had grabbed the basket. He smiled, nodded, and wandered off elsewhere.

I carried my shit all the way back to my car and glared at all who dared to give me a look. Somehow everyone in the fucking world knew that I had just chased a kid through the market. I slammed my door shut and turned the ignition.

Today was not my day. My truck was acting up. I gave it a good while to relax before I turned the ignition again. It didn't budge. The key was stuck in the ignition.

"Fuck it!"

I slammed the dashboard and tried to turn it the opposite direction but it wouldn't turn either way. I bite my lower lip and pushed it in while turning. It finally gave way. The engine emitted a continuous cough. I had to restart the ignition a few more times before the truck rumbled to life. My face flushed, I sped off.

At my house, there was a note lodged in my door frame. I quickly unfolded it and scanned its contents.

It read: _Her school is Kilmore High School. My address is 111 Guppy Ch. Dr._

I guessed that it was from that husky boy.

She looked old enough to be in college, yet she was still in high school? Kilmore High wasn't that far from my neighborhood. At least, by car it wasn't a long distance. If you were to walk from there to my house then it would probably take a good half hour. But Guppy Ch. Dr. was a street in a subdivision next door. Not too far off.

I threw the grocery on my table and headed out. Thankfully my truck roared to life on the first try.

He was waiting for me on the driveway, drawing chalk figures. I casually strode up to him and examined the cartoony figures. All the drawings were in blue and I couldn't quite make out what he was drawing but one of the figures had what looked like a tail.

After a minute or so of waiting I finally said, "So why are you helping me out?"

"Because." He continued to draw.

"Because what?"

"Because I want her to stop bothering me." A pause. "And she seems to like you." He stopped drawing.

"So, why won't she talk to me? You said that it wasn't because she didn't want to. What is that supposed to mean? That something or someone is holding her back?"

"Not someone. Something."

"What? A speech disability? She a mute?" I chuckled. The boy, on the other hand, stood up and glared at me.

"You think that's funny that she has blue fur and can't talk?" His fists were balled up.

My smile froze and I shamefully looked away. I muttered under my breath, "So that's why. Shit."

I looked back at the husky. "Listen here boy. I'm not poking fun at anyone, okay?"

"You like her? Don't you?"

I had to scoff. " That's random but you got it all wrong boy. I'm way too old for her."

He frowned. "Age doesn't matter. And I have a name: Paul."

"Okay then...Paul. And why wouldn't age matter?"

He stared at the blue chalk in his paw. "Because."

"Because you like her?"

His eyes flashed for a moment but before he could do anything a voice called him inside.

Before he went inside he gave me a heads up on how to apologize to the blue vixen. "Her favorite ice cream is mint!"

Mint? I had never tried mint. The only ice cream flavor I've had was the original: vanilla. Maybe mint tasted better than vanilla? I never was one for trying new things. Not that I was afraid of something new but because I preferred something old over new. I wasn't afraid of anything new, especially not some girl. I just didn't care much...that was all.

I think.


	5. First Impressions

**First Impressions  


* * *

**

You remember when I told you about Paul telling me that I liked her? I guess he was partially right. Up until now, nothing close to Her had walked into my life. I've gotta say that she gave me a small sample of freedom from boredom.

But that was only after I got past the introductions and shit.

* * *

Kilmore High wasn't exactly one of the best places to nurture growing teens. It did feature an outer decorum of friendliness and society within its walls but what many failed to notice was what happened on the sidelines. I would be able to drive by and spot kids snuffing out smokes. I had actually seen some kids go behind a bush for a little bit of bang-bang, as they called it these days, which usually meant that someone poor girl was going to be a mother in the next few months whether she liked it or not. And it wasn't unusual if I spotted a crowd of students dispersing right after a gruesome fight; shit, I had been in plenty during my life. But there was a unspoken rule that everybody followed at school, including teachers: what happens here, stays here.

I was beginning to wonder if Paul had intentionally lied to my face. There was no way that She could be attending this school. But then again, she was being terrorized by those idiots in their Lincoln that day. Anything was a possibility at Kilmore High.

I crossed the intersection just before the bus lane, pulled my truck through the front driveway, and parked in the visitor's lane. I sat there and fiddled with my radio for about a half hour before I began to see the black-striped, white hover buses zip through their lane. Another half hour later, I heard a dim ringing. It was followed by raucous groups of students all more than prepared to leave their educational institution.

I could clearly distinguish between the different high school social cliques. There were the gorillas and bears all dressed in their oversized leather numbered jackets, the felines in their extra small shirts and skirts, the foxes with all of their books in tow and arrogance showing, and a couple others that I was not familiar with. After most of the major cliques lingered about and left, the outcasts began to show up. All the labeled freaks, retards, and nobodies whose mentality and sanity were probably tested every day. Among the widely scattered outcast I expected to see a familiar blue hue. Upon finding nothing close, with the exception of a dyed tail, I started my car and slowly drove off.

I could've called it quits and headed straight to home but at the red light at the intersection I decided to take a right and circle the school.

As I patrolled the side of the school I rolled down my window and let the air in. The weather was nice and it was quiet around here so I decided to head toward the back of the school. That's when I saw a blue tail disappear past a wooden fence. I drove up to the stop sign and squinted my eyes. "Dope St."

Dope Street was just as bad, if not worse, than what happened off school grounds. For one, the houses looked like they'd been abandoned for centuries. Other than that, the folks down here weren't too friendly. Cheap buildings usually housed shady people.

I quickly went down the street and caught sight of her. Her tail, bobbing lower than usual, curved downward while the tip pointed to the sky. Her tail kept creating waves.

Her tail gently floated toward the ground and she stopped in her tracks. Her right ear twitched and her paw shot into her pocket. I slowly pulled up to her and gave a friendly hello.

Her face blank, she frowned. She turned her gaze from me and began to continue walking, ignoring me.

"Hey, hey. Don't do this to me. I'm sorry about your note, okay?"

She kept walking.

"Look...I'm not sure what else to say. I shouldn't have treated you like that. I had no idea that you were a...you know: mute."

That stopped her and even grabbed her attention. She turned my way and studied me for a second. I couldn't stop now that I had her attention.

I managed to say, "You...I...I could buy you ice cream as an apology." Cocking her head to the side, she kept staring. I mumbled, "You know something like that."

What the hell was the matter with me? I couldn't speak straight to a mute? It was as if her innocent stare was drawing all of my guilt out.

I was getting ready to tell her to make a decision when she hopped into the passenger seat.

She tried to pull her seatbelt on, but, as usual, my truck refused to comply. She began tugging on it. I shook my head and reached over. I began to pull on it and it slowly came out. I tried not to stare at her as I pulled the belt through her personal space. She, on the other hand, giggled silently at my straining and struggling.

Seeing her elated face almost lit my soul up with joy. Almost. I checked myself and made sure not to get too emotional. This was, after all, just an apologetic ice cream treat.

I asked her if she was all set before driving away. I noticed something peculiar though. As I drove away I noticed a white Lincoln in my rearview mirror. I didn't give it much thought and trained my eyes on the road.

I took her to Lester's, which was as crowded and loud as the last time I went there twenty years ago. But as I drove towards it, I felt a something sink deep in my stomach: regret. The court was milling about with crowds of raunchy students. Most of them taking a seat on a bench or stone hedge. What was an old guy doing in an area like this?

The blue vixen fidgeted in her seat and sunk lower as a bunch of people stared our way. My truck was next to nothing compared to most of these sleek and flashy hover cars.

Since there were no parking spaces readily available, I decided to park off to the side. I unfastened both seat belts and stepped out. She was glued to my passenger seat. I tried to coax her out but she refused. She almost seemed terrified of all the students that were beginning to take interest in us. Well, I suppose it was an awkward sight - old wolf with a young fox. I snapped at a passing bulldog who had his phone out; he scurried away.

I felt my face flush as more people began to take interest in my outburst. I faced the blue vixen. "Come on, I feel silly out here. Do you want your mint ice cream or not?"

She seemed surprised that I knew her favorite flavor, eyes wide and ears on guard. She soon got over this and hesitantly left the den of my truck. Instead of the passenger seat, she was now stuck to my side. As we walked down toward the ice cream building, students stopped what they were doing and trained their eyes on us for a moment. They stayed silent though as I glared at every single one of them.

We finally made it to the window. Luckily, there was no line. "I'll have a vanilla and she'll be having mint."

The black vixen standing inside the air-conditioned building pulled out the lollipop she was sucking on and leaned out the window. She frowned before asking, "Is she your daughter or something?"

I froze. "I...uh. No, she's just a...relative."

She shook her head and stuck her lollipop back into her muzzle. "I feel sorry for her. Don' you? Jus look at that fur...make any momma ashamed."

"Hey! You stay out of my family's business, alright? Hurry up and get me that ice cream. That's your job now get to it."

She scrunched up her muzzle and spat out her candy before rushing off toward the back. She tried to drop the ice cream into my paw but I snatched it away from her, avoiding a possible accident.

We took some seats by a table with a sun patio umbrella. We sat down and she happily began to spoon down her mint delight. I took my time with my vanilla and examined her. It was me and her sitting across from each other on a white sun patio table. She finally noticed me and licked some mint off of her muzzle before she returned her gaze to mine. It was very calming for some strange reason: sitting across from her and just staring.

"So...since you can't really talk. I suppose I'm going to have to ask you Yes or no questions, right?"

She nodded.

I scooped up some vanilla before asking. "So, have you had that problem since birth? Being a mute?"

After a second she nodded. "I see. What about your fur discoloration? Was that on birth too?"

She shook her head.

"Was it gradual?" I received a nod.

I'm not sure why I want to know about her personal life. Maybe, I was bored. But I learned quite a few things from just asking yes or no questions...such as: she was the only mute in her school, she got picked on a lot for having two disabilities, or so they call them disabilities, and she's never been in a relationship before. She does have a family though she shook her head violently when asked if she liked them. She had two other siblings. Both of them were considered normal; she was the only ugly duckling out of her family.

Before I knew it, I was beginning to ask her questions that were impossible to answer with a shake or a nod and the parking lot was almost empty.

I looked at the time. "Holy shit, I mean, holy cow...we've been here for almost forty minutes. Let's go home. Where do you live?"

She shook her head and pointed at me.

"What? Let's go to my home?"

She smiled and nodded.

"Oh, no, no, no. My house is a real mess and it stinks."

She continued to shake her head and continuously pointed at me. I felt as if she was accusing me of something.

After arguing back and forth on the way to my truck, I finally relented and decided to let her tag along. She couldn't possibly be a disturbance in my usual quiet style of life.

As I drove her back to my place I popped a CD into my built in player. I chuckled, "Ya, I know. This pile of junk is so old that it still uses a CD."

I skipped some songs and got to my favorite part. A wild mesh of guitar solos, drum licks, and bass chords.

She apparently enjoyed the music just as much as I did. I smiled. "You wondering who they are?" She cocked her head to the side and looked to me immediately.

"Boston. That's their name. A pretty old band but a pretty damn good one. Better than all this shit they play on the radio nowadays."

I drove slow enough that we got through a couple more songs. But the party had to end sometime and before she knew it, I was turning off the ignition and cutting off our musical release.

She almost whined but I promised to play it when it was time to leave.

I showed her in through the door and told her to make herself at home. Contrary to my first impression, I thought she would be the quiet, polite type who would sit at the edge of my chair. Instead, she took everything in like a kid on Christmas. I didn't expect for anyone to be amazed at my rather humble interior but she was staring from one picture to another, pouncing on my sofa and testing it, and even going through my fridge.

She bounded up stairs and I had to take after her. "Now wait just a minute! Don't go in there! Don't, dammit."

She barreled into my room and jumped onto my bed. Then she began to roll around it and play with my pillows.

"What's the matter with you? You never tried this at home?"

She stopped for just a second to shake her head. Then a pillow hit me square in the muzzle.

I shook it off and grumbled, "Alright, now that's enou-

A second pillow found its way half lodged in my mouth.

As I coughed up my own fur, I saw a blue blur rush past me. "Hey watch it! Don't hurt yourself going...down the stairs?" I was baffled to see that she had cleared the stairs in the time I took turning around. I began to regret bringing her into my house. She was more trouble than she seemed.

She was in the kitchen holding her ripped halves of the thank you note. I froze and scratched the back of my head. "Yea...I uh. I kept it because it was...pretty, you know?"

I walked over to her and snatched up both pieces from her paws. "I was going to tape them together anyways so you don't need to worry about anything." She snatched them back just as quickly. My eyes couldn't even follow her.

She shook her head and threw them in the trashcan.

I blinked a couple times and then shrugged. "Oh well...I guess it wasn't that important to you after all. Want something to drink?"

She shook her head and opened the fridge. A clear bottle of whiskey, a couple cans of beer, and milk.

"Oh...I see why. Well, there's nothing interesting to see...but you want a tour of my house?" She stood up and nodded.

I led her through the living room where I usually spent my day lounging around to my bedroom where she had made a mess, not that the bed sheets weren't already crumpled up. I took her to my porch and complimented her painting skills, though a fresh scribble of graffiti had been placed on the side. And I ended the tour at the door of my basement. "And this is my basement...I keep dead bodies of kids in there. You know, the stuff old guys usually do in their spare time."

She smiled and then punched me. "Hey. You're a violent little vixen aren't you? Didn't your parents teach you any manners?"

She shook her head and her tail followed.

"Well, I think it's about time we got you home."

I had to drag/push her to my truck before she got in on her own. She was a playful little devil, forcing me to chase her all over my backyard before she ran out of breath.

She pointed the way to Paul's house where she allowed herself to get off. I guess I wasn't trustworthy enough to know the location of her house just yet.

"Hey, I took you to my house. You better take me to your house next time. You hear?"

She waved and completely ignored what I said.

As I drove off and watched her get smaller in my rearview mirror, I couldn't help but feel empty.

I stepped inside my house and I sat on my couch. I looked to my right and brushed some blue fur off. Now it was on the floor. I grunted as I leaned over to pick it up. I went into my kitchen and threw it in the trashcan where I noticed the ripped halves of paper.

It was time to drink. I began to pour myself a glass of milk but my gaze wandered past the doorway of my kitchen and into the living room. I sighed.

Something cold and wet hit my foot. I hastily took a couple steps back and noticed that milk had spilled over the top of my cup. I realized that what I needed wasn't a drink but some sleep. I poured everything down the drain and then dragged myself up the stairs. I stooped over to pick up two pillows that were lying on the floor and straightened out my bed sheets. That's when I stopped myself.

"What the hell am I doing?" Why would I straighten out my sheets if they're going to get messy anyways?

I put everything up and went downstairs where I let the couch become my bed. It was then that I realized...

"I never got her name."


	6. Sugar, Spice, and Everything In Between

_Chimerical_Knave_

**Sugar, Spice, and Everything In Between.**

**

* * *

**

A list. She had brought with her some list full of stuff that I was supposed to be a part of - mandatory. I guess that I shouldn't have been complaining though because it could always be worse.

"So what's this anyways? We going shopping or something?"

This time she was prepared. She scribbled down something on a sticky note and slapped it onto my fur. I winced as I pulled it off and glared at her - she wasn't deterred by my glare at all, not that I was able to keep it up for much longer. I took my eyes off of her for a second and scanned the note.

_Sugar, cereal, chocolate, Sprite, and yogurt._

"A list of sweets? Listen, I don't got much of a sweet tooth so-

She furiously scribbled something down and stuck it on my nose. I ripped it off and read it before ripping it apart.

_It's: I don't have much of a sweet tooth._

"What're you, my teacher?" She nodded and I grinned. "Fine by me. Hope you have enough of them notes, though."

She frowned and my grin widened. More scribbling and then the note was plastered onto my brow.

_Here lies a Dummy. RIP._

"Hey! I'm no-

She was already out the door twirling my car keys. I gaped at her before checking my pockets. She was a mute pick-pocketing thief! I jumped into the car and chided her for thievery before snatching the keys from her and jamming them into the ignition. The blasted truck wouldn't start yet again. "Fuck my life." I muttered.

She, on the other hand, shook her head and slapped my hand aside. "Okay. Let me see you try it then."

She smirked and then turned the ignition. A low rumble shook the car as my engine rattled to life. She smirked more and eyed me smugly. "Shhh, beginners luck." I cranked the car in reverse.

As I drove down the empty road I couldn't help but notice that she had a small scratch on her left cheek. I reluctantly asked her about it.

_It's nothing._

I didn't take my eyes off the road. "It was those bastards wasn't it? Are they still bothering you? You need me to rough them up a bit?"

_I said it was nothing. They aren't bothering me anymore. At least, not when you're around me._

My motor skills were driven to the limits as I was reading and driving at the same time. "So they are bothering you. Why do you let them do that to you? Call the cops. Scream for…oh right. Shit."

She socked my right arm and then slapped a note across my cheek.

_I said that it was nothing. Stop asking questions about them. It's none of your business._

I was getting annoyed at her juvenile behavior. "Fine…I'll stop asking questions."

She grinned slightly as she looked away but I caught it. Then I floored my truck on the brakes and halted immediately at a stop sign, wiping that look off of her face as she was almost flung from her seat. Her glare was enforced with a low growl.

"Hey, that's what your seatbelt is for." I laughed. She eyed her stack of sticky notes and then eyed me.

My laughter subsided as I noticed the malicious grin spread across her muzzle. "What're you-

...-...

By the time we arrived at the market, I was covered in sticky notes - well, mostly my chest but some had managed to stick onto my face. I grumbled in protest while she smiled in utter delight.

I escorted her to the front doors where the greeter always stood. He was about to happily greet her when he noticed my larger frame falling in step right behind her. His ears fell back and he choked mid-sentence. She stared at him curiously and then grabbed my hand, tugging me along. I hastily grabbed a basket as I was dragged.

I was dragged past aisles and people – she had no clue where we were going at all. "You've never been to the supermarket, eh?"

She quickly shook her head before charging on again. I stood my ground and pulled her back. "Look, if you want sugar and sweets then they're that way. We're going towards the meat n things right now."

She pulled out her pen, pad, and scribbled something down. _Poultry._

"I know, meat n things." I received a glare.

I led her to the sweets without much difficulty. Standing in the aisle of candy, her eyes wide, she began tossing this and that into the basket. Chocolates, lollipops, chewables, and anything else that she could get her paws on became a wild pile inside the basket. By the time we made it to the diary products I wasn't sure what would give way first: the basket or my arm?

She viewed the yogurts as if they were some kind of foreign delicacy: turning them over in her paws and scrutinizing every single one of them. But it just wasn't the yogurts; from what I could notice, everything inside the supermarket sparked her curiosity. I knew that she had never visited the supermarket but this was a little too extreme even for me.

At the spices, she immediately picked out a single bottle from the rest. I eyed the bottle that she brought before me: Tabasco.

She unscrewed the cap and took a whiff. The result was her gagging and coughing, tears forming in her eyes.

I tried to ward her bottle away from me but she insisted that I needed this. After a bit, I reluctantly allowed the bottle to be stacked on top of everything else.

While I waited in one of the lines, she darted off somewhere. I waited and then scooted forward; waited then scooted forward. By the time I reached the conveyer belt and cashier, there still wasn't any sign of her. I began to scan the area, peering over heads and faces. Then, just as I was about to leave, she showed up holding a short cylindrical object: mint ice-cream.

I rolled my eyes. "You're definitely paying for all of this."

To my surprise, she pushed me aside and pulled out a wad of cash.

"I was just kidding around, you know? I'm gonna pay for that." She refused to budge. We had a stare down as the cashier's eyes darted between us two.

I overpowered her with my arms and then held out my card. "Excuse my daughter. She's not right in the he-

I grunted as a painful sting erupted from my left shin. She walked away as I cursed under my breath. The cashier warily handed back my card as I tried to walk the sting off.

"You're…you're just a bundle of fucking joy, you know that?" I growled at her.

She flashed her yellow note at me. _I'll take that as a compliment._

As I drove away I thought I saw a familiar white trunk, but I didn't pay any attention to it; I had a blue vixen in tow with me and that was enough to worry and think about.

When we arrived at my house, she had gone through a couple wrappers of sweets. She had ravenously devoured them like she'd never been fed before. A wild appetite, she had.

Granted, she became more docile with her snacks inside the house. A nibble here and there as she stared at me. She finally reached into the grocery bag and pulled out a yogurt stick. It landed on my lap.

"I'm not sure that I want this." I picked it up gingerly and eyed its contents.

She pulled out another one and ripped it open, greedily slurping out its contents with some degree of difficulty. I watched her like a kid at the zoo, entranced.

She went through three more yogurt sticks in record time before she reached over and snatched mine.

"I was about to eat that. Slurp that…whatever."

She eyed me with a fascination that was often found in children. That look in her eyes and that tensed-up body — she was wary of me.

I stood up and reached over to the goody-bag. Her eyes followed. But while all of her attention was focused on my one right hand she didn't notice my left.

She practically jumped off of the couch as my five digits assaulted her side. Her act of frenzy scattered most of the contents from the bag onto the floor.

She eyed me vehemently. As I sat back down chuckling, a candy bar bounced off my head.

"Shit, you just fell for one of the oldest tricks ever."

I caught a wad of paper headed toward my face. _Keep on laughing you geezer._

I made a face at her. "You know, that hurt my poor shriveled up heart."

She stuck her tongue at me before jumping off of the couch and grabbing the bottle of Tabasco off the floor. To the kitchen, she went; a second later, I followed.

A blue tail protruded from my pantry door, shaking its bushy body to the gods. A clunk and a clutter later, she set two cans of beef stew on the countertop. Next to those, she set the bottle of hot stuff.

She eyed my stove curiously and began fiddling with the knobs, her tail floating dangerously close above her shoulder. I grabbed her and jerked her away. She glared at me.

"Looks like you've never seen a gas operated stove before. You don't have one of these at your home?" She shook her head.

"No matter. Just let me handle the cooking. Don't want you burning yer tail to ashes."

I peeled the lid off of both cans and dumped the stew into a pot. "Watch and learn from the chef." A few minutes later, lunch was served.

She cautiously prodded a chunk of beef in her stew with her fork. She finally decided it was safe to eat - but not before pouring a waterfall of Tabasco in her bowl. She took a small sample in the form of a spoon; satisfied with the results, she began to dig in ravenously.

I took my time eating and eyeing her. I almost cringed when the waft of the spices hit my nose.

"Why do you put that stuff in your food anyway? It's supposed to be eaten straight, you know?"

A yellow slip slid across the table. _Plain beef stew is bland._

"Huh. I never try to add anything to my food. That ruins everything."

_If you don't add anything to it, it's boring. Routine. You get the picture._

"Never thought of it that way. Alright Ms. Know-It-All, I'll add spice to my food now. See if it changes my mind about it."

The red liquid sloshed inside the glass bottle as it halted in my paw. One whiff and I almost regretted it. A sour, vinegary scent didn't help my doubt. I couldn't stop now; she was watching me. I felt like a man standing before a judge awaiting my sentence.

I finally poured a couple drops into the stew. The red drops spread and disappeared as my spoon generated a mini-vortex.

The smell may have been far from anything pleasant but the taste was something altogether: a piquant taste hidden behind the thick, juicy stew; a wild kick in the tongue right after the savory beef. It made my food come alive. But I took too much at once and a coughing fit ensued.

"This is...this is really something. I think I might add this to everything from now on."

She smiled, as if I had passed some exam, and sent me a message. _I'm glad that you enjoy your spiced up food._

A small grin crept along my muzzle and thanked her.

"It's all thanks to you."

I downed a large spoonful and coughed again — tears appearing at the edge of my eyes.

"But I'm an old guy. I can't have too much spice."

Even though she had poured the Tabasco into her stew, she didn't seem affected at all. _I wouldn't worry about it. It's too plain anyways._

"I'll take it in gradual amounts, thank you."

She stopped eating for a second to flash me a sly grin.

_No. Thank you._


	7. Alias

_Chimerical_Knave_

**Alias**

I sat next to her on the sofa, trying to watch anything but the TV—I couldn't stand much of the media these days, not when all you saw were slutty advertisements of useless, or near useless, products. I found one of my favorite channels and kept it on there: Discovery.

She swung her tail back and forth curiously, her eyes glued to the screen.

I coughed into my paw. "So what's your name? You know, you've never bothered to tell me."

She smirked before shaking her head. Then she pointed her finger at me accusingly.

I waved it away. "I ain't telling you nothing until you give me your name."

Her paws and shoulders rose simultaneously in the form of a shrug. _Did you graduate high school?_

I glared at her. "Yea, why?"

_Paul's grammar is better than yours._

I shook my head. "Do I need to use correct grammar when I talk?"

_Most definitely._

I smiled at that. "Well, then I'm gonna need some help."

She pulled out some sheets of paper from her book bag.

"You still use paper in school? I thought they would've given you notepads by now."

_My school isn't prestigious._

I had trouble pronouncing the word. "What the hell is this that supposed to mean?"

_Layman's terms, important or high-status._

I chuckled. "I know it's not a good school or nothing but that don't mean that they can't afford cheap laptops. Besides, you can't even talk; they should give you a laptop."

_I get by just fine without talking — it helps me listen better._

I reached over and lightly flicked her ear. "You should be able to hear just fine with these huge things."

She frowned and rolled her eyes. _You're so lucky that I write fast._

"Ya, but I can barely read your writing. Looks like chicken scratch to me." I ducked as her pen soared over my head.

I got up and then stooped to retrieve her pen. I held it tightly within the palm of my paw a couple inches away from hers. "I'll give it to you if you tell me your name."

Her paw swiped the air as I took a step backward.

"Nuh-uh. Your name first."

She mouthed a desperate sigh and began flailing her arms. When all she got was a questioning, confused look she quickly reenacted scribbling motions with her right paw.

I felt slightly stupider than usual. "Oh right. But you better write your name down."

Her smile accompanied her nod . . . and I fell for it.

"You know, you should keep your promises."

_I only keep promises that I write down._

"Pssh" I sat back down. "You're stubborn like my mother used to be. Fine, since your school didn't give you a laptop I might invest in one. But you're going to have to teach some grammar an shit to me."

She gave me a nod. _A laptop would be nice but a desktop would be better._

I gave her a ludicrous stare. "Why would you need a desktop?"

She smirked. _I don't. You do._

"What's that supposed to mean? I don't even know how to use one of these damned things."

She shook her head. _"I can teach you."_

I rubbed my face. "You don't get it, do you? Why do I _need_ the desktop?"

"_I'm going to teach you things with it."_

I feigned an uninterested look and asked, "So you're actually going to help me?"

"_It's what friends do, right?"_

I managed to stifle a laugh. "You consider me your friend?"

She timidly stared at her feet. _"Yes"_

"I can't even remember the last time I had an actual friend, other than the barber. It's ironic how you would consider me your friend though."

She cocked her head. _"Why's that?"_

"Because people know me as a mean old sack of bones and shit. If you haven't noticed, people around the neighborhood don't exactly pay me visits."

"_I don't understand why they would do that. You seem 'tame'"_

"Because that's the way I like it. I'm an asshole, get it?"

She sat still for a few seconds and stared at me. I tried to divert her gaze away from me but the tactic failed. Before long, I couldn't take it.

"Well, you mad or something?" I asked.

She finally reached for her sticky note. _"You don't seem like an asshole to me."_

I thoughtfully scratched my chin and muttered, "Maybe. Maybe not. You'll just have to stick around and find out won't you?"

_"Don't worry I'm in no hurry to leave."_

"Is that so?"

_"Yes. And call me Ki."_

"Key? What kind of name is that?"

She gave me a ridiculous stare as I pronounced her name. _"Not Key, Ki! Ki as in Kite."_

I shook my head. "Then you should've put down K and then Y for Ky. Now that would've made sense."

She socked my arm. _"What's your name?"_

I waved her arm away. "Just call me Wolf."

She threatened me with her fist again. _"I want an actual name."_

I put my paws up. "Hey, you gave me a nickname. Don't complain."

She frowned but accepted the logic. _"Fine but I'm hungry. What are we eating?"_

I sighed. "Making me pay for everything now? Whatever, I don't care. Why don't we get in the car and dri -

The last words left my muzzle and my keys were gone as Ki shot out the door. I shut it behind me as my truck rumbled to life.

As I fastened my seat-belt I asked, "Hey, how about we check out some computers after we eat. We might as well kill two stones with one bird or however the saying goes."

She smiled at me and shrugged.

I eased my truck out of the driveway and then stifled a smirk, my paw resting on the shift. "You ready for this?"

She shook her head and prepared to eject.

I locked the doors and floored it.


	8. Haircuts

**Haircuts**

"How's that?"

Ki shook her head.

I adjusted it. "How about now?"

She jutted her hip off to the side and stared. Her tail flicked once before she shook her head again.

I threw my paws in the air and stood up. "Fuck it. You do it."

She silently giggled and pushed me aside.

She typed in, _"You really are hopeless aren't you?" _before underlining my sentence and then critiquing it.

_"You put a comma in the place of a semi-colon to join two independent clauses together. That's called a comma splice Wolf."_

I shooed her away and deleted her words. "Aw whatever. Ever since I got you this computer you've been nothing but a pain in my ass."

_"You should look at yourself talk! I've been having migraines nonstop ever since I decided to help you."_

I crossed my arms and leaned back. "I sure as hell didn't ask for your help."

_"But you accepted it." _She then grabbed my mane and then yanked on it lightly. _"Long hair is messy."_

"Hey, watch it! Wait a minute? Did you just type all that with one hand?"

_"Mosdef"_

"How the hell do you type so fast?"

_It's called practice, Wolf. And you haven't seen anything yet."_

"Oh, I think I've seen enough from you. Speaking of long hair, take a good look at yourself."

_"What about my hair?"_

"I think it's about time we both got a haircut. I missed it last week because of you and your stupid desktop."

_"Hey, it was a good investment. I can definitely talk to you a lot faster now."_

"You know, if you really wanted to talk to me efficiently then you should've just bought yourself a cell-phone or something; that way you could talk to me no matter where you are."

She hugged me. _"Sounds like a great plan."_

I was stunned. "What're you hugging me for?"

This time she tapped me on the nose. _"Because you are going to buy me a cell phone after the haircut."_

"You're such a mooching bitch, you know that?"

She smirked and took off.

"You know you ain't going nowhere without the-

I searched my pockets for the keys . . . which weren't there. "Shit, again. How the fuck does she do it?"

I looked at the sleek black casing of the desktop and its curvatures and muttered again, "How does she do it?" I stood up with a grunt and then stretched.

She was waiting for me in the car impatiently, the radio volume jacked up and playing her 'new' favorite band.

"I just noticed that you take everything from me. You take my wallet, my ideas, and my songs. What're you gonna take next? My life?"

Her only response: grinning and shaking the keys in my face.

I swiped it from her and started up the truck.

_**Marvin's Barber Shop**_

Ki traced her paw over the curved rainbow-esque designed name. Behind the glass, a burly German-shepherd looked up from his magazine and put it away.

I opened the door. "Well, we going in or what?"

The shepherd stretched as he fit into a white coat. "Perfect, a Polack and a Red!"

I smirked and sauntered in. "How you doin Marvin, you filthy Kraut bitch?"

Marvin zipped up his coat. "Wolf, you cheap bastard, I should've known you'd come in, I was having such a pleasant day too."

"Pleasant? What'd you do this time, give someone the wrong change?"

He shook his head and laughed. His attention turned to Ki as she stepped out from her hiding place behind me.

"Well, well, well, what do we have here? Wolf, I didn't know you had a daughter."

I froze up and forced a grin. "Uh, Marvin, she ain't my daughter."

He faked a double take. "What? She some high school hooker that you picked off the street? Shame on you!" At this remark, Ki growled at Marvin, who instantly put his paws up. "Whoa missy, I'm just screwing with you." Then looking at me, "But seriously, what's the relationship between you two?"

I sheepishly looked to the ground and stuck my paws into my pockets. "It's uh . . . complicated. She's a mute."

With a nod of his head, Marvin dropped the subject. "So, what're you idiots standing around for? Get in a chair or get the fuck out."

Ky nodded and sat down.

"How do you want it cut?"

She raised her paw and spread her index finger and thumb apart just slightly. "Short?" She shook her head. "Trimmed?" She nodded.

Marvin looked at me and rolled his eyes. "Aye, you got yourself a picky one."

"Shut up, do your job, and just watch her ears. I don't want her being a deaf also."

"Hey, I'm the best goddamn barber around here. Don't you fret." He taunted me by swinging a pair of scissors dangerously close to Ki's head. My right paw gripped the edge of the couch as I held my breath. He twirled his scissors and grinned for a good couple seconds before he began working on her hair.

Marvin unclasped the hair cloth and then removed the sanek strip from my neck. "There, you look like an actual animal-being now. You shouldn't wait so long between haircut's you cheap sonavabitch."

I stood up and brushed off my collar. "Ya? Well, I'm surprised that you're still around. I was always hoping you'd die off and then they'd get somebody in here who knew what they were doing but instead you keep hanging around like the fascist faggot you are."

Marvin chuckled and opened his paw. "That'll be twenty bucks, Wolf."

I reach for my wallet and frowned. "Twenty bucks? Sweet mother of potatoes, Marvin! What're you half Jew or something? You keep raising the prices all the time."

"It's been ten bucks for the past three years you hardnosed Polack sonavabitch. What? You forgot your multiplication tables now?"

I reluctantly handed him a twenty. "Sure. Keep the change."

Ki opened the door for me and I grabbed my coat.

Marvin called out, "I'll see you in three weeks, prick."

I tipped an invisible hat. "Not if I see you first, dipshit."

It was my first time ever going into a V-mobile store. I never needed one in the past since the government provided us with standard, but specialized, comlinks. I thought the same would be for everyday use comlinks, or phones as we called them, but it seemed that the properties were reversed. Specialized looking but filled with standard components.

The door chimed and several heads turned towards us. I scratched the back of my head and diverted my attention to the glass cases on the side. The various types of communication devices sheltered behind the thin veil of glass awed me. Why would anyone need so many different components for a device used to call people with? And who in their right mind would pay more for memory or an upgrade? Just buy a fucking camera.

"Is there anything you need help with?" I looked up at a feline's disarming smile. A completely blacked out feline, the only white spot being on her muzzle, which technically wasn't a spot at all, it was more like speckles of white grouped close together, cropped hair—much like Ki's—and a pair of glasses.

I almost said no, but, instead, turned away and coughed into my paw, "Uh yea, just looking for a phone."

"Sure. What kind?" I was stumped. Ki came to my rescue just in time. She grabbed my jacket sleeve and tugged me toward another glass case. She pointed in the general direction of three phones uplifted by their own little clear stand.

"The white one?" She shook her head and pointed again. "Then it must be the black one." Her shoulder's fell and she gave me an exasperated glare.

I looked at the only one that I hadn't pointed out. A light-blue phone with a sleek design to it, rectangular shaped, but curvy, not exactly an oval either. The ceiling lights gleamed off of its plastic-like case.

I was surprised. "You want that one? Don't you hate that color since . . . you know?"

Ki shook her head and pointed to it again, resting her finger on the glass case this time.

"Well, alright . . . holy shit." I checked the price. It was tagged for two-hundred lyts.

The feline appeared on the other side of the glass case and removed the phone. "Yes, the E-Lite is quite a popular choice among teens who wish for something a little more . . . _exotic_, though it is a bit pricey."

I frowned and tiled my head upwards. "Fine. I'll take that. You got any other phones for a cheaper price though?"

"If you want a discount then I can help you with that."

I was all ears. "How?"

The feline pulled out a pamphlet and directed me to all the various plans laid out. "If you get a family plan on a contract then you can shave off about fifty lyts right away."

I looked through each plan carefully, reading all the fine-printed details, until my eyes came across the last plan: The couple's plan.

"So, why is this so special compared to the others?"

"It's a special that's been going on for the past month. It's supposed to drag in customers who want a plan for themselves and their significant other. So far, it's been a great success."

I carefully read it over again. "So, with this plan I shave off twenty percent on any purchase and get a free phone?"

"That's what it says."

I closed the pamphlet and nodded. "Alright, I choose that."

"You mean to tell me that you two are a couple?"

Shocked, I faced her. "Hey, now don't you get the wrong idea -

Laughing at me. She smiled. "It was just a joke. Now, if you can just fill out these forms and hand me your I.D. I'll get you _two_ on your _merry way_."

I didn't like the way that she looked at us when she told us that, but I could care less. I was saving money here.

When everything was said, written, and done, we both got our phones activated.

"You should test out your phone to make sure it works."

Ki thoughtfully looked to me and then handed the feline the phone. She then grabbed my arm and pulled me in close.

I complied, albeit slightly hesitant. "What're you doin?"

The feline, getting the message, nodded and pointed the phone at us. "Smile, you two."

"How's that?"

Ki shook her head.

I adjusted it. "How about now?"

Ki shook her head and grabbed the frame away from me. She marched off to the fireplace and propped it against the wall on top. She looked to me. I folded my arms and nodded. "I guess that works too."

I guess that it was somewhat worth the price, that exotic phone. Its built in camera was better than I thought, though I'm certain that they pulled that scam on all people who bought phones. They make the customers test out the camera and of course they are going to take a picture of a loved one. It just so happens that have a picture making machine . . . and it cost money, also. Figures.

Though, I couldn't really complain about this particular picture. I think I looked okay in it. As for Ki . . . I think she looked okay in it too.


	9. NonConsensual

_Chimerical_Knave_

**NonConsensual

* * *

**

It was a real pain in the ass tinkering with the phone—the screen was small and the buttons even smaller. I liked the holographic comlinks better . . . at least with those, you could _tell_ it what to do. And those things even strapped around your wrist so no need to worry about it falling off or anything—looked like a regular watch to the unsuspecting eye. Why the hell didn't they have those out for the average consumer already?

Other than that, the past few days spending these _tutoring_ sessions with Ki was less than enjoyable. I felt nostalgia wash over me as the school years came flashing back all over again—learning all these big words and how to use them then never finding a time and place for them; I was still having trouble finding the difference between poultry, paltry, and partly.

Ki had actually assigned some homework to me. Homework? To me? A fucking near fifty year old something sack of bones? I was wondering why Hell hadn't frozen over yet. Well, Hell didn't seem too bad of an idea at the moment. My usual routine had been tampered with, broken, sabotaged.

The grandfather clock was ticking. Tick-tock. Tick-tock. I paced around for a bit, waiting for the eventual door-bell chime.

I couldn't take it anymore and went to the hallway. A little past two. So w_here the hell was she?_

I double checked my wrist watch to make sure that old clock wasn't dying on me. According to my watch, it wasn't. A triple check with my self-correcting time phone confirmed it.

Yup, it was still kicking.

I went back to the living room and took a seat, turning the T.V. on. Nothing good was showing up at the moment. I yawned and adjusted myself until I was lying in a comfortable position. My eyes slowly began to droop. Everything started to get blurry. Dark. Cozy. Warm.

Vibrating.

Something was vibrating in my pocket.

It awakened me from my gradual slumber. I wiped some droll off of my muzzle and reached for my phone. Flipping open the phone revealed that the caller was none other than Ki.

I was up and awake in mere seconds. Fumbling to receive the call. _Odd that she would call me._

I answered it and frowned. The call ended before I could get in a word but I heard more than enough. I bolted up the stairs, searching in my closet.

I rushed out the front door and jumped into my truck. It was just as worried as me it seemed because it started up just fine. The truck lurched out of the driveway and shot forward.

In a matter of minutes I was driving past her school, scouring the area. No sign of her. I was beginning to lose patience as I circled the entire school. That's when I saw the street.

I drove into Dope Street hoping for the best. She was nowhere to be found along either side of the road. I was about to drive off when something caught my eye. The glint from a blue cell phone lying in the ground.

I parked the truck on the sidewalk and jumped out. After picking up the phone I started snooping around, hoping she left a trail or something. Well, I spotted a huge impression in the bush behind the house across from me. After I walked past the bush I found myself in the backyard of another house. The boards were curled, paint chipped off, and the windows smashed. I was surprised that the fucking roof was still intact. Someone bumped into the wall inside of the house and I heard cursing. It sounded like bitch. I ran up to the door and kicked it in, the door flying off its hinges.

I froze in shock, taking in the scene with minute detail.

Her body was on the floor, her snout bloodied and bruised. Clothes strewn all over the floor. Right behind her bent over form knelt one of those wolves from the backseat of that car long ago. His hand grasped tightly around her tail, his other hand grasped around his dick all ready to go, while his pants laid piled up at his bent knees on the floor. His eyes in complete shock as he stared at me, muzzle agape, hands starting to tremble. He managed to peep, "Da fuck?"

My muzzle twitched up in a sneer and my throat rumbled with a feral growl. He yelped when I started for him, scrambling to pull his pants up. I reached for him and he flashed a switchblade, lunging for me like a drunken fucking retard. I allowed the knife to cut my forearm, smiling at the pain, bringing back memories from the war. My head slammed into his snout. Blood poured from his nose and his grip loosened on the blade, it clattering to the floor.

My knee shot straight into his groin. He doubled over. I pulled on his hair and brought my fist up. He threw a pathetic punch at my face, barely stunning me; a feeble attempt that only fueled my anger further. My fist crashed into the side of his face and he spun to the right, knocking over several dusty books and breaking a glass cup in the process. The wolf was on the floor, convulsing and curled up in a fetal position all pathetic like. The sight of him made me sick. I stepped over him and pulled his hair up again, getting a good look at his face. I brought my fist up again and heard a satisfying crack when I brought it down on the kid's poor snout.

_Enjoy soup for the next few months kid._

I stooped over Ki, her right eye blackened and barely conscious. Her eye was so swollen that she could barely see. She heard me near and whimpered, trying to back away, her tail curling up between her legs.

"Hey, it's alright. Everything's going to be fine."

I gently picked her up, her left arm swinging uselessly by her side while her right arm curled up around the nape of my neck. I walked out of the shit house without a second glance. When I got to my truck, I set her inside, taking care to place her in a position that didn't agitate her arm. Upon further examination of her arm, I realized that it was not broken but merely displaced. For once, I was glad that she was a mute . . . her right claws did hurt quite a bit when she dug them into my back, but I didn't mind one bit.

I told her to stay put and shut the door, making my way back to the rape house.

The wolf was still there, lying on the floor in a pitiful state. I crouched next to him.

"Hey, you almost broke her arm, you know that?" No response. Good. Talking with a broken muzzle was painful as shit.

"So, I'm going to repay you for what you almost did."

His eyes were wide open now, ears alert. He tried to scramble away but I brought my foot down on his arm. He cried out in pain, tears flowing from his eyes. Not sure if it was from the arm or the muzzle or both.

I smiled and grasped his skinny arm in my hands, bringing it up while placing my foot on his body. "Guess what happens next." He shook his head.

Crack.

After I got back to my house, I brought all the medical supplies out. I'm just glad that I still carried stuff like that around. Old habits die hard they say. Most of the stuff that I carried were illegal for civilians, only available to hospitals or certain military personal. I had kept all my shit for kicks and giggles and I suppose for sentimental value.

Her arm was smeared with that smelly medicine shit and bandaged up within a couple minutes. The right eye was coated with that other shit my previous squad had no name for; we just called it balm. A lot of the stuff I had was nameless, but I still knew what went with what.

She woke up about an hour later, trying to get up. I laid my paw on her chest and nudged her down, shaking my head. She made a phone symbol with her paw and I handed her my phone. A minute later I was on the phone with Paul and telling him what had happened.

Shit, if I thought that I had been worried I was wrong. That kid was talking about how he was going to kill the one who did this to her. I tried to calm him down without much success and then asked him if he knew about her parents. He did. I asked him to call them and tell them that she was staying with a friend for the next few days to a week.

So, for the next few days to a week I stayed by her side at my bed. Spoon feeding her and all that other shit. To others, it might have been boring but to me this was a new thing. I don't ever recall spoon feeding someone before and sitting next to them while talking about my life.

"You know, I used to be in the military. A special unit like what they show in movies and shit. But y'know, the movies aren't that far off. We aren't exactly a part of the military. We were a separate section like mercenaries but only better. I was the jack of the trades in my squad; not the best at anything but good at everything."

Her ears never wavered and her eye never left me. She was curious about me and a keen listener; she hadn't lied when she said that being a mute helped her listen better. She looked so vulnerable in that state, laying in my bed with a bandaged face and arm. She looked so . . . cute.

"So a Macbethian, an Aquan, and a Kew walk into a bar owned by a Cornerian. The Macbethian asks for a drink and the Cornerian responds, "Get the fuck out of here you damn Red." The Aquan comes up next and asks for the same drink. The Cornerian responds, "I don't need your damned smarts in here. Get the fuck out!" The Kew comes up last and the Cornerian doesn't even wait to hear him out. He says, "Get the fuck out of here you large-snouted, money-hoarding prick!" About a week later the Cornerian suffers a natural disaster to his bar. He needs workers to rebuild it, someone to calculate the costs, and someone to finance him. He goes to the city square and finds the people that he needs on a job listing bulletin. He calls all three of them to meet him at his bar. Well, needless to say, it wasn't his lucky day at all. The Macbethian, Aquan, and Kew show up at his doorstep. When he begs them to help him out they all look to each other, then look back at him, and say, "Fuck off!"

She would always smile when I cracked a joke . . . or at least I tried to. Always give me a lick in the morning—I can't say that I wasn't unnerved at that act. It was better than a hug and yet worse at the same time. Even when my cooking paled in comparison to hers, she would eat it all, never refusing. Always so considerate toward me.

And this happened for a week. I didn't think that a week spent under the same house would bring us that much closer . . . but living close to people did things to you.

I liked her, no denying that, but I also knew of the law and the fact that I was much older than her.

I think I was afraid that we had become more than just . . . friends.


End file.
